Two Worlds, Twice As Hard
by Babee.Got.Back
Summary: Hermione is in her early teenage years, and is confused and stressed about a lot of things, especially her own feelings. She has decided on one thing: Being a teenager is a lot harder in the magical world than it is in the muggle world.


I don't own anything but the plot and any setting you don't recognize from the books. JKR owns the rest. Enjoy!

"Beeep. Beeep. Beeep."

There was nothing Hermione dreaded more than the sound of her alarm clock going off. As a matter of fact, she had been conditioned over the years to despise the sound of _any_ alarm clock going off. Hermione was not quite a morning person, and therefore, the sound of an alarm clock symbolized negativity in Hermione's young, tired mind.

"Beeep. Beeep. Bee-." Hermione hit the button one the top of her alarm clock without opening her eyes. She knew that she had only hit the snooze button, and that if she did not get up now, the dreadful sound would reoccur in only a few short minutes. Of course, all of the other girls in her dormitory thought that her "loud beeping muggle device" was incredibly annoying, but Hermione was very used to use it, and found it in many ways less complicated than using spells to wake herself… Or worse, having a roommate wake her- that usually resulted in some injury, unfortunately.

Hermione opened her eyes to complete darkness. She looked at her alarm clock. The bright neon numbers formed an all too familiar 5:00. Hermione sighed and threw the covers off to the side as she sat up, yawning.

As Hermione rubbed the smudged mascara from the day before off her eyes, she was beginning to think that she should have just slept in instead of making a big deal about getting ready. She flicked the off switch on her alarm, and smiled as she realized that she would not have to hear it again for a whole two months. Hermione was accustomed to waking early. She often woke at dawn to go to the extra classes that she participated in four mornings a week at school before the normal academic day began, or even to complete some leftover homework. But today was different. On this particular morning, she found herself waking early for the soul purpose of preparing herself for the day, which one rarely found such a girl doing.

Hermione had decided that she would look her best today, for it was the last day of school before summer vacation. Although, it was actually only a half day, because there were no classes today, just goodbyes and boarding of the Hogwarts Express. Today was also slightly more important to Hermione than it was to the pure-blooded students, of course. It was the end of her third year, which marked an important day in the muggle community. All of her friends back home were celebrating the fact that they only had four more years of schooling left, not including college, and that they would be starting high school soon. Of course, this did not quite apply to Hermione, but she knew that her parents would be treating her as if it did, seeing as they were still muggles, after all, and that her friends would still be having some sort of graduation party that she would be expected to attend.

Hermione stretched her toes out and cracked her ankles before finally getting off her bed. She walked over to a window and spread the drapes. The small room was flooded with a dim light. She looked out across the grounds. It seemed to be a nice day. She looked around the room. It was rather messy. There were magazines and clothes strewn about on the floor, and robes and blankets draped over chairs, as well as a large assortment of stuffed animals about the room. _Lavender_, Hermione thought with a smile. No one loved cute fluffy things as much as Lavender, she was sure. Hermione sighed and walked to the door. She glanced into the full-length mirror that stood against the wall. She sighed and opened the door, revealing a dimly lit, but spacious common room. It was also quite messy.

Hermione looked at the fireplace. A few embers were still hot. She figured that the boys were probably up late together. She smiled again, imagining them raising hell throughout the night. Hermione flicked her wand at the lamp on a nearby table. She walked to the table. It had many papers on it and a few books. They all belonged to her, of course. She pushed some papers off of the table onto the floor. She picked up a piece of parchment. After looking over the document one last time, she duplicated it so that she would have two copies one to give to Professor McGonagal, and one to have for herself, safely tucked away in the bottom of her trunk for the next four years. Professor McGonagal insisted that all students write a letter to themselves to open and read four years from now, when they were leaving Howarts.

Hermione realized that she should be getting ready. She had more than one reason to look presentable today, of course... She was still hoping to make a good impression on a certain someone- A boy… Or perhaps he could be referred to as a man… But either way, he was a guy that tied with Hermione in nearly everything academic. He was the best guy, she was the best girl. That's how it always was. It made her mad… But she loved it.

That wasn't the reason she liked him, however. That reason, remained a mystery to her, as well as all others who knew her secret. He could be funny, and somewhat gentlemanly, but he was a jerk to her most of the time, and they disagreed on nearly everything. They spoke little to one another, and when they did it was never what she wanted to say. Everyone got along with him, except Hermione. Over the years her closer friends, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and other Gryffindors had grown to like him. He wasn't as bad as he had first seemed. Of course, Lavender had always liked him secretly. "He really _is_ kind of… _really adorable_, don't you think, Mione?" she would say. Hermione would always laugh and reply, "Oh yes, quite _fetching_ indeed." She said it sarcastically to hide the fact that she actually meant it. She always pretended to hate him… And in some ways, she actually did. "The only person _I_ know that doesn't like Draco is Hermione," people would say. She always laughed when her friends reported these conversations to her. Everyone was so oblivious, even him.

She was nothing to him. He hardly noticed her, she was sure, and Hermione could not put her finger on what exactly she found appealing about him. He was not even good-looking. Of course, over the past year he had… grown… and become more mature. Not to mention that he had started dressing much better, and he did have killer blue eyes, but that made no difference. Her friends all said that he would be acceptable as a boyfriend in their eyes, now that he was no longer thin and boney, and frighteningly pale, but Hermione disagreed. He was not what she needed in a guy. She hated him. And yet, she had been crushing hard on him for over a year and a half now. A time long enough for both of them to undergo complete transformations. Hermione had undoubtedly become prettier, more fashionable, and more sociable over the year, and the same could be said for Draco… With the assumption that the adjective "prettier" is replaced with a more masculine word, of course.

Her friends all said that she should tell him, that he might actually like her as well. Of course, Hermione would not agree. She would never admit to liking a guy, unless he admitted to liking her first, which, she was sure would never happen with Draco. Lavender was always saying that they were perfect for each other, and that he definitely liked her, but Hermione still disagreed.

She knew that it was a passing fancy, no matter how long it was taking for it to pass. She wouldn't like him forever. She knew it was just a simple crush. These things take time, of course. Feelings had never been something that changed overnight with Hermione, as they did with some girls. She knew her feelings for Draco were nothing serious. The fact that she thought about him constantly everyday for the past eighteen months was not an issue, in her eyes. It couldn't be love, because love, Hermione knew, was something that only existed between two people, and in Hermione's case, her affection was not returned. Or maybe, as many of Hermione's friends believed, she was just in denial. Denial of what? Well, I believe that question can be answered without any further explanation.

Either way, Hermione still wanted to impress him. She would never give up on trying to get him to notice her. As a matter of fact, he seemed to be acting differently around her now, but nothing drastic.

As Hermione glanced at the clock she realized that she had no time for daydreaming any longer. It was already 5:31, and she had many things to do. She took the two letters and went back upstairs into her dormitory, and slipped them into her bag, along with a few other items. She went into her trunk and picked out something to wear. She didn't want to be overdressed, but still wanted to look nice. She decided on a white dress that she had bought with Lavender and Ginny. It was about knee length. The skirt was slightly ruffled and very flowing, while the top of it was quite tight. It was held up by spaghetti straps, and there was a long tie that criss-crossed a few times before tying into a knot. Hermione also picked out a cute knitted cropped sweater to go over the dress. The sweater was a pale pink, and tied in a bow just below the breast. She grabbed a pair of simple heals and lay the clothes on her bed. She looked at the outfit. She was very glad that they were not permitted to wear their uniform on the day that they went home, because it was not very flattering attire. She liked dresses and jeans much better than plaid skirts.

Looking at the clock that now read 6:08, Hermione grabbed a towel and ran to the washroom to take a shower. There was still so much for her to do, and breakfast was at 7:30.


End file.
